


About princes and princesses

by Ledgea



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Count Jaskier, Crack and Angst, Fluff and Crack, Humor, Imprisonment, Lambert has no braincell, M/M, Vesemir is a little shit in chapter five, Villainous nobles with sordid plans in chapter three, Young Vesemir
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:01:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25934809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ledgea/pseuds/Ledgea
Summary: “Aiden ? What are you doing here ?”, Lambert asked and he sounded so confused.“It would seem that I'm playing the prince to your princess,” he answered with a smirk.Imprisonment, towers, dashing witchers to the rescue and a dash of crack.
Relationships: Aiden/Lambert (The Witcher), Eskel & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Lambert, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Rennes & Vesemir
Comments: 33
Kudos: 110





	1. Lambert

Jaskier was reviewing some papers when a knock on his office door interrupted his quiet evening. His majordomo entered after being prompted to and announced that his neighbour the baron, with whom he was currently negociating a new trade contract, was asking for him.

Jaskier sighed, put his papers away and went to see what the man wanted. He wasn't expecting him but if he could wrangle a better deal from the man by being polite, he was damn well going to make an effort. He ordered a waiting servant to prepare a small collation and to be ready to offer supper to the baron if the man wanted to stay after all.

Jaskier followed John, his majordomo, to the entrance hall where two guards joined them and walked at his side. John lead him to a small room beside the entrance hall, knocked on the door and opened it for Jaskier to step inside.

“My dear baron de Writelberg,” he greeted his visitor and shook his hand affably.

“Count de Lettenhove,” the baron greeted him, “I'm sorry for the late visit. And how many times will I have to remind you to call me Leogen ?”

“As many times as I'll have to remind you to call me Julian. Wine ?”

“With pleasure !”

Jaskier pointed at his majordomo who hurried by with two glasses.

“What can I do for you, dear Leogen ?”, Jaskier asked after a few sips and a few polite enquiries about the baron's family.

“I wanted to deliver a present for you.”

“Oh, you're too kind.”

“I left it outside, if you would kindly follow me ?”

“Of course.”

They deposited their empty glasses on a table and headed outside. Jaskier wondered what the baron brought him that just couldn't wait till tomorrow, and more importantly what he would want in exchange of it. His guards opened the doors for them and Jaskier immediately noticed the kneeling figure restrained by the baron's own guards as they stepped outside.

The baron headed straight for the kneeling figure and beckoned Jaskier forward. He followed him and forced his smile to stay on his face, he didn't want to anger the man before he knew what was happening. For all he knew the person deserved to be dragged up to him in chains. He doubted it but he could only hope.

“I heard that you were interested in witchers,” the baron said as he stepped behind the man.

“Yes,” Jaskier cautiously answered.

It was true, he asked around for witchers and was always interested in the gossip that anyone was able to bring him concerning them. But his interest was founded in genuine care. Before he had been forced to come back to Lettenhove to take the count's position, he had travelled with his witcher friend Geralt for a while. And seeing as the man clearly wasn't gifted in the communication department and often forgot to write, even if he at least tried to visit once a year, Jaskier had to find other ways to receive news about his friend.

Apparently his interest had been noted, which surprised him because he didn't know why this piece of information would seem relevant to anyone. He focused back on the baron who took hold of the kneeling figure's chin and forced his head up. Jaskier gasped and stepped forward.

“It's a witcher,” he whispered and stopped in front of the man.

“Yes. My men found him camping in one of my forests.”

“Why did you arrest him ?”, Jaskier asked.

“Why not ?”, the baron replied with a shrug, “If you really need a reason, we can always say that he was trespassing.”

Jaskier sighed and kneeled down in front of the man. His hands were tied behind his back, he was armourless, struggling against the guards' hold and growling behind the gag that had been shoved into his mouth. Jaskier then looked at his medallion and spotted a wolf's head. One of Geralt's brothers then.

“And what are you planning to do with him ?”, Jaskier asked again.

“Well, I don't need him,” the baron said casually, “And then I thought about gifting him to you. You could always tame him, use him as you see fit.”

Jaskier ignored the baron's suggestive tone and started to fiddle with the witcher's gag. He pried it loose soon enough and wasn't prepared at all for the man to lurch forward and to bite his fingers. Jaskier cried out, tried to get his hand back but the witcher clearly didn't want to release him. His own guards had to pry his jaw open and Jaskier craddled his bloody fingers against his chest.

“It might take a little bit of work though,” the baron then casually said, “This one is a nasty piece of shit.”

Jaskier got up and barely refrained from saying that the man clearly had a right to be a _nasty piece of shit_ seeing the way the baron treated him.

“I'll just leave him into your custody then,” the baron announced and motioned for his guards to drag the man towards Jaskier's home.

Another guard followed with what Jaskier guessed were the witcher's swords. Said witcher started to struggle anew and began to curse, vehemently and loudly.

“That's just too kind of you, Leogen,” Jaskier said and hoped that he didn't sound to pained, his fingers were freaking throbbing, “Do you perhaps want to stay for supper ?”

“No thank you, Julian. We've still got a bit of a journey ahead of us. But I'd be delighted to host you tomorrow to speak about our trade agreement. My eldest daughter will be in attendance too.”

And here was the catch, Jaskier thought.

“At midday ?”, Jaskier asked.

“Perfect,” the baron said as he got back to his carriage, “Pear pies are your favorites if I'm not mistaken ?”

“Yes. You're too kind.”

“Nonsense. We'll be glad to have you. Goodnight Julian.”

“Goodnight Leogen,” Jaskier said and waited for the man's guards to come back and for the carriage to disappear before going back inside.

When he entered the entrance hall, he soon spotted the witcher being pinned on the floor by six of his own guards. He was still struggling and cursing and didn't seem in a hurry to calm down. Jaskier kneeled down next to him again and tried to get through to him.

“Witcher !Witcher ! Come on, listen to me ! Nobody here will hurt you. You might even be on your way in a few minutes if you would just _calm the fuck down_ !”

“You whorish son of a one-legged bruxa ! I swear that as soon as I get free, you fucking won't live long ! I'll kill you ! I'll dismember you ! I'll fucking skewer you on a spit, slowly roast you and eat your fucking liver ! Now, LET ME GO !”

“Lovely,” Jaskier said and then asked his guards, “Do you think that you might set him free without being hurt in the process ?”

The head guard doubtfully stared at Jaskier's bloody fingers and shrugged from his spot over the witcher's right shoulder.

“I wouldn't bet on it, my Lord.”

“Crap !”, Jaskier exclaimed, “Right, you probably won't be able to keep sitting on him all night long either.”

“We can put him in the dungeons, my Lord, at least until he calms down enough for us to release him.”

“No,” Jaskier disagreed, “We'll use the north tower. Drag him up the stairs to the last room and lock him up there. The door is reinforced steel to block invaders, it should hold him well enough.”

“The dungeons are closer, my Lord.”

“Yes but the north tower has the added benefit of being empty and out of the way. His hands are shackled, right ? Leave the key with him and he can scale down the tower once he comes back to his senses. He would have to pass several guards and servants were he to come up from the dungeons.”

“Yes, my Lord,” the guard nodded, “What about his swords ?”

“Leave them at the bottom of the tower, he'll take them back when he comes down.”

The witcher didn't seem to have taken note of the plan Jaskier just outlined _right in front of him_. The man was still busy threatening him and cursing his whole family over several generations. Jaskier just felt lucky that Geralt had never been this bad.

“You utter asswipe ! Fucking gnomish motherfucker ! Your grandmother had to be impregnated by a fucking goat seeing as you're not clever enough to take my threats seriously. I swear to you, I'll disembowel you, I'll bathe in your fucking viscera, I'll use your heart as...”

Jaskier watched with sad eyes as the thrashing screaming witcher had to be dragged out of the room and hoped that he would soon regain his senses. Jaskier wasn't looking forward to hosting this rude man more than necessary. He hoped that he would be smart enough to disappear quickly too, Jaskier wasn't looking forward to order his guards to subdue him again if he decided to attack his home.

He finally got off the floor when John cleared his throat next to him and let himself be lead back to his chambers where a healer was waiting to look at his fingers. Jaskier let the man work and enjoyed a light meal at the same time.

When the man finished bandaging his fingers, Jaskier thanked him and saw him out, before ordering John to bring him his papers concerning the trade agreement with the baron de Writelberg. He already knew that he wouldn't be able to go to sleep until the witcher would be gone and he might as well do something useful with his time.

* * *

When Aiden came back to camp, the first thing he smelled was blood. He sped up and hoped not to find Lambert's dead body, he wouldn't forgive himself if the Wolf came to harm while he was away hunting for dinner.

To his relief, there was no body when he arrived back at camp. He found blood, mostly from some unknown humans and some from Lambert. Not enough for him to be alarmed, but enough to be concerned. To be fair, he was always concerned when he smelled Lambert's blood.

The people who had been here hadn't bothered to pack their things, and had put everything in a fire that was still slightly burning. Aiden winced and was just grateful that he took his weapons and armour with him on the hunt.

He managed to salvage some parts of Lambert's armour, to find some daggers and their cooking pot that had landed in some bushes and then to his utter amazement, Horse, Lambert's horse – because the moron refused to name it – appeared and went up to him requesting a few pets.

Aiden scratched the horse behind his ears and was relieved to see that it still had his saddle and saddlebags on, everything wasn't lost then. He then searched the camp, found some tracks and followed the trail. Apparently some men had dragged Lambert to a carriage and then they had been off. Aiden sighed, mounted on Horse and followed the tracks, he hoped to be able to catch up to them quickly.

The tracks lead him to a manor and Aiden hid Horse away to be able to scout the land while he wondered what the men wanted with Lambert. He managed to creep close enough to see a carriage leave and wondered if Lambert was in there. And then he heard the enraged cursing coming from the manor and instinctively knew where to find the Wolf.

He sighed and settled under an hedgerow to wait. He'd invade the manor in the middle of the night and planned to get Lambert out in an hour at most, so that they could be far away from the manor by the time the sun would be rising. He had to rethink his plan when he spotted six guards dragging Lambert out of the manor. They were heading towards an old stone tower which had to belong to the old castle the manor had been built on.

The men dragged the struggling Wolf up the tower and Aiden soon heard his angered bellows coming from the top of it. He didn't sound hurt though, just angry, so Aiden decided to wait again. He would take the option that offered the less bloodshed.

He saw the men come back down - every one of them -, a guard then deposited something that looked like swords at the bottom of the tower and they left, just like that. Aiden didn't understand what was happening.

He waited a few minutes and decided to try his luck here and there. It seemed as good a time as any, there didn't seem to be any guards left in the vicinity and Lambert was still yelling and hopefully in good health, Aiden wondered for how long he could keep the racket up.

He forwent the tower's entrance and decided to climb the damn building, it would take a little bit longer but at least he would avoid the possible traps laid out in the stairway. He hoped to go unnoticed in the dim evening light and started his ascent.

It was a fairly easy climb, there were protruding stones and asperities that he could use as holds and he soon reached the middle of the tower. And then he had to look back down because he heard people coming by. He stopped his ascent and squeezed himself against the wall in the faint hope that nobody would spot him in the darkness.

“Are you sure that you saw someone on the wall ?”, Aiden heard a voice ask from the ground.

“Yes, my Lord. He started climbing the wall.”

“Oh, just great,” the Lord muttered and then added clearly for Aiden's benefit, “You could have used the door, you know.”

Aiden didn't answer and stayed perfectly still.

“Oh, great,” the Lord said, he sounded exasperated, “After the one who just _wouldn't_ shut up, we end up with a mute. Now, I'm going to hazard a guess that you're here for your friend. I'd like you to know that I didn't ask for him to be brought to me, you can totally have him back. He was supposed to be able to leave on his own but he clearly hasn't calmed down enough to start to think properly again. You'll find his swords at the bottom of the tower, near the entrance. That you could have used. Just saying. Now we're all going back to bed, goodnight.”

And the lord just turned back around with all his guards and went back to his manor. Aiden watched him go in utter puzzlement and started to climb again when he was sure that he was alone. It took him a few minutes to reach Lambert's prison's open window and he couldn't hold up a smile at the sight that greeted him.

Lambert was crouched in one corner of the room, still yelling obscenities at the closed door. Said door looked like someone had given it some heavy blows but it clearly hadn't moved an inch. Aiden propped his feet on a protruding stone and leaned his elbows on the windowsill.

“Hello, princess,” he drawled at Lambert and watched him flinch at the sound of his voice, at least he finally stopped his tantrum.

“Aiden ? What are you doing here ?”, Lambert asked and he sounded so confused.

“It would seem that I'm playing the prince to your princess,” he answered with a smirk.

“You can just fuck off if all you're going to do is make fun of me !”

Aiden sighed and finally climbed into the room through the window. He then walked up to Lambert, backed him up against a wall and kissed him.

“Missed you,” he whispered against his lips and stroked his hair softly, “Why is your mouth bloody ?”

“I bit a few assholes,” Lambert explained in a slightly hoarse voice.

“Of course you did,” Aiden said in a fond voice.

Lambert grinned at him and then started to struggle against his bonds again.

“Can you get these fucking shackles off me now ? Or do I have to wait another day for you to move your ass ?”

“Stop being so dramatic,” Aiden sighed and asked completely astonished, “Are these your shackles' keys ?”

“Where ?”, Lambert asked and finally narrowed his eyes at the keys dangling from a nail on the wall next to the door.

Aiden let him go, retrieved the keys, jingled them meaningfully between his fingers before inserting them in the shackles a grumbling Lambert presented him. The key got in, Aiden turned it and to his astonishment, they actually opened the damn things. Lambert turned around again and started massaging his wrists.

“Were you so caught up in your anger that you didn't notice they left you with the damn _keys_ ?”, Aiden asked with a smug smirk.

“Shut up,” Lambert grumbled and blushed in embarrassment.

“You're unbelievable,” Aiden chuckled.

“ _Shut up_ ! It could happen to anyone !”

“Sure,” Aiden agreed sarcastically, “I mean to anyone who's blind. Maybe.”

“Oh fuck you !”, Lambert snapped, “Now help me destroy this door.”

Aiden rolled his eyes at Lambert's order.

“Always with the more difficult choice,” he said, “Are you hurt ?”

“No,” Lambert answered while he was examining the heavy door, “I have a bump on the back of my head but it's healing. A few scraps and bruises, nothing dangerous.”

“Good, then we're climbing down, I'm not interested in busting my shoulder against that.”

“There are perfectly usable stairs behind that door !”

“Behind that heavy hard reinforced steel door. I'm climbing down.”

“Oh, fine, you big baby. You're no fun,” Lambert grouched but went to the window anyway.

“You'll see, it's a fairly easy climb.”

“Aiden, it's getting dark,” Lambert whined.

“By the Gods, Lambert, I swear I'll leave you here if you don't move your ass _right about now_ ,” Aiden growled and climbed out of the window.

“Fucking authoritarian monster,” Lambert grumbled back but thankfully followed him.

They climbed down fairly quickly and with no problem at all. Aiden smirked at Lambert when the Wolf finally touched the ground and followed him when he ran to his swords. He stopped next to him when Lambert bent down to retrieve his blades and smirked at him.

“See, it wasn't so difficult. You didn't need to whine so much, you bloody princess !”

“Bite me,” Lambert growled, “Next time we camp on some lordling's land, I'm the one going hunting. You can enjoy being kidnapped instead.”

“If you say so,” Aiden agreed with a smile, “I bet you that I won't end up locked in a tower needing my prince to rescue me though. I'll be out before you can come to get me.”

“We'll see,” Lambert said dubiously, “Just wait here for a while, I need to pay a visit to the shitty lordling.”

Aiden sighed again, caught Lambert's face between his hands and kissed him soundly.

“Forget about the lordling,” he whispered, “We're getting out of here.”

“But Aiden,” he whined, “He imprisonned me in a tower !”

“Yeah and you were a lovely princess, albeit a bit coarse,” Aiden said with a grin and kissed him again.

“Fuck you,” Lambert growled back.

“With pleasure,  _princess_ ,” Aiden smirked and tugged Lambert towards Horse and away from the manor.

Lambert grumbled and complained at the nickname but followed readily enough. He bitched again when he saw that they had lost parts of his armour, their bedrolls, tent, some clothes and a good portion of their dried food to the men who had kidnapped him.

Aiden shut him up with another kiss, forced him to get up on the horse and sat close behind him. Lambert still continued to bitch at him and Aiden let out some exasperated huffs agaisnt his neck. It didn't deter him. Aiden really hoped that they could find a secure spot to stop soon so that he'd be able to shut him up properly and appreciate the fact that Lambert was here and whole and still as prickly as usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed :D
> 
> Here we have princess Lambert in his tower and I'm working on a princess Aiden in his own tower (because no-brain-cell-Lambert to the rescue is _so fun_ to write!).  
> And I hope to do one one-shot for each Wolf too ! I'll have to see where my inspiration takes me!


	2. Aiden

Vesemir knew that he and his mentees had secrets, there were just things they were uncomfortable sharing with one another. Sometimes these secrets still got out, usually after years of silence. It probably helped that there were only four of them left. He doubted these secrets would have been happily shared amongst the other witchers of the Wolf school.

For exemple, it had taken Geralt five years to confess about having found himself a friend. A bard turned count that he tried to visit at least once a year. They didn't get to learn the man's name, or even the country his estate was located in, but they still appreciated Geralt's willingness to share this part of him anyway.

Eskel had confessed, while incredibly drunk, that he had fucked a succubus ten years after the fact. They had all nodded and smiled and never commented on it, it had been somewhat awkward. Even Vesemir shared things, usually about how he didn't really miss the old times and about his relationships, good or bad, with their fallen brothers, it was nice to reminisce sometimes.

And then there was Lambert. Lambert who at the first glance was incapable of holding a secret. He was loud and brash and always said what he was thinking, but sometimes he slipped up. It was subtle, the casual use of the pronoun _we_ instead of _I_ , a name hastily cut off in the middle of a sentence or the fact that he always left Kaer Morhen with a jar of homemade pickled radishes even if he hated the stuff.

So by now they all knew that Lambert had a friend, someone he apparently met, and probably travelled with, every year. They had thought that he would confess after Geralt did, but he stayed stubbornly quiet, so they had placed some bets, about whether it was a man or a woman, human, creature or witcher, friend or more than that. They were still waiting for Lambert to come clean about it.

So yes, Vesemir intellectually knew that Lambert had a secret – or maybe more –, but he still wasn't prepared for the sight of a Cat witcher knocking on their door one afternoon at the beginning of winter and politely asking if he could maybe see Lambert. He stared at the witcher for a while until Eskel came to see what the knock had been about.

His mentee's hackles immediately raised and he unsheathed his sword in one smooth movement. Vesemir barely managed to hold him back and the Cat just raised his hands and took some steps back. He never lost his smile. Vesemir sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, trust Lambert to create a damn fine mess with his secrets.

The only problem was that Lambert hadn't arrived yet and Vesemir didn't have a way to check if the two witchers really knew each other, and more importantly if they were friendly with one another. It was finally decided, after an headache inducing round of negotiations, that the Cat would be allowed to stay at least until Lambert arrived. Eskel bowed to his decision with a pensieve frown on his face and that was that.

The Cat readily gave them his weapons and bags, and allowed Eskel to search him. Vesemir wasn't taking any chances with their safety and the witcher apparently understood that. _A sensible Cat then, where the fuck did Lambert find him ?_ Vesemir wondered.

“What's your name ?”, he finally grunted at the stranger as he lead him inside the keep.

“Aiden,” the Cat answered still smiling.

He then looked around curiously and obediently followed Vesemir towards the stairway leading up.

“I'm Vesemir. This is Eskel,” he introduced them gruffly and added for the Cat's benefit, “We'll find you some nice but out-of-the-way accomodations. I don't want to unnecessarily rouse Lambert's anger if it happens that you really are friends, but I'm not giving you free reign of the keep until he arrives either.”

“Of course, thank you,” Aiden agreed calmly and Vesemir found his temperance infuriating.

He decided to set the Cat up in the room they had used for solitary punishments in the old days. The window was small enough that the Cat wouldn't be able to slip out through it and the door sturdy enough to keep him there. The room was bare and dusty, and they'd have to improve it a bit, but it could provide their guest with a ray of sunshine during the day. All in all not a terribly bad idea.

Vesemir lead Aiden up the stairs and collected a broom on their way up. He waved Eskel away to the armoury on the first floor, so that he could put Aiden's belongings away, and continued on up. The room was situated in the east tower on the fifth floor and the Cat entered it without a fuss and with a small snort.

“What's so funny ?”, Vesemir asked.

“Reminded me of something,” Aiden answered with a smile.

“Pleasant memory ?”

“I wouldn't say pleasant exactly, but definitely funny.”

“I'll just take your word for it then,” Vesemir said.

Vesemir handed the broom to Aiden and watched him sweep the room while leaning against the doorjamb. When Eskel joined them, they put a matress on the stone bench, added some sheets, furs and a pillow. They offered the Cat a waterskin, three books, a chamberpot and promised to bring him three meals a day. And when they deemed him all set up, they got out and locked the door behind them.

Vesemir waited until they got back to the main corridor to let out a disbelieving sigh and to rest his forehead on the keep's blessedly cool stone wall for a few seconds. If he were younger and didn't have an attentive audience, he probably would have banged his head a few times on said wall. Eskel commiseratingly patted his back and Vesemir chuckled.

“A Cat then,” Eskel commented.

“ _Possibly_ ,” Vesemir stressed, “We're not sure yet.”

“Keep telling yourself that, old man,” Eskel chuckled, “I mean, I don't think that any Cat would have come _knocking_ if they weren't Lambert's friend.”

“Fuck,” Vesemir swore.

“At least we can settle the bets now. And rob Geralt blind when he'll arrive too.”

“Right, there's that,” Vesemir agreed and finally stepped back from the wall, “Come on, I want a soak. Scratch that, I _deserve_ a soak.”

Eskel chuckled and followed his mentor down to the springs.

“I feel like we should enjoy the peace and quiet while it still lasts,” Eskel added.

“Don't jinx things,” Vesemir muttered, “Lambert is enough trouble on his own, we don't need another troublemaker.”

Eskel laughed as Vesemir continued to grumble and they went down to the hot springs to enjoy their probably last moments of peace this winter.

* * *

When Lambert finally reached Kaer Morhen one late afternoon, he discovered that he was the last to arrive. His brothers' and Vesemir's horses were already stabled and didn't even acknowledge him when he entered and settled Horse in his own box. He hummed while he worked and didn't turn around when he heard footsteps approaching.

“You're late,” Eskel said behind him.

“I'm not,” Lambert disagreed, “Snow still hasn't come down, has it ?”

Eskel nodded and drew near to hug him. Lambert hugged him back with only a small grumble that was mainly for show anyway. Eskel soon released him and then smirked at him. Lambert took a step back, crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes at his brother.

“What ?”, he asked through gritted teeth.

“Nothing,” Eskel sing-sang, “Good to see you, that's all.”

“As if,” Lambert scoffed, “What is it ? Come on, asshole, spit it out !”

He shouldered his bags and stepped out of the stables after patting Horse one last time. Eskel slung an arm over his shoulders and continued to smirk. He was infuriating. Lambert grumbled all the way to the keep and considered turning back around when they happened upon a smirking Geralt in the entrance hall. They hugged and Vesemir soon joined them, he was frowning.

“What the fuck is your problem ?”, Lambert asked after greeting Vesemir, “They look like idiots and you look fucking constipated, old man.”

Vesemir rolled his eyes at him and leaned against a wall.

“You've possibly got a visitor,” the old Wolf finally announced.

“Possibly ? What does that even mean ?”, Lambert grumbled, “You're not making any sense.”

“A Cat came knocking a few days ago,” Vesemir explained, “He asked for you.”

“Aiden ?”, Lambert asked, surprised, “Where is he ? What the fuck have you done with him ? I swear if I find him shackled in the dungeons, you're going to regret ever being born !”

Lambert let his bags fall to the floor and ran towards the stairway leading down to the dungeons.

“He's not in the dungeons, you moron,” Vesemir muttered behind him and Lambert stopped dead in his tracks.

“Where is he then ?”, Lambert growled at his mentor.

“In the room we used for solitary punishments in the east tower,” Vesemir sighed.

Lambert grunted and ran back towards the other staircase. He stopped before he reached the first landing when it registered to him that Aiden was locked up in a _tower._ He turned back towards the other Wolves still standing in the entrance hall.

“Tower ? On the fourth floor ?”

“Fifth,” Vesemir sighed, “And if you could just _check_ if the man really is your friend before you let him loose, we would greatly appreciate it.”

Lambert hummed and slowly walked back down the stairs towards his bags. Aiden was locked up in a tower, and Lambert thought that it was priceless and a good occasion to get back at the Cat who called him _princess_ for half a year too.

He got out of his armour under the other Wolves' perplexed gazes, rummaged through his bags, got one of his weakest bomb out of it and ran out of the keep again.

“Lambert !”, he heard Vesemir yell after him, “Is that a bomb ? Lambert ! Don't blow any part of my keep up, you little shit ! The staircase is right here !”

Lambert ignored him and only stopped when he found himself in front of the east tower. He spotted the tiny window on the fifth floor, much too small for anyone to sneak out of the room, stretched himself, wedged his bomb in his belt and approached the tower's wall. Just before he could start his ascent however, his brothers came running after him shouting his name. Lambert sighed and banged his head against the wall, there went his surprise.

“Lambert ?”, he heard Aiden yell back from the tower.

“Yeah,” he yelled back, “Coming !”

“Are you climbing the tower ?”, Aiden shouted back, he sounded incredulous.

“In a few minutes !”

“Stairs, Lambert ! There are perfectly serviceable _stairs_ inside !”

“Yeah, Lambert, you should listen to your friend,” Eskel said with a smile.

“Vesemir won't be pleased if you blow the tower up,” Geralt added sensibly.

“Don't tell me that you would be sorry to see this room disappear ! We can say that it's some shitty cathartic exercise if it'll make you feel better.”

And Lambert turned his back to his brothers and started his climb. Eskel and Geralt didn't try to stop him and Lambert smirked at them when he was halfway up. It was possible that they didn't believe he would really blow the tower up. Too bad for them, then.

He finally reached the small opening after a few minutes and immediately spotted Aiden. He had opened the window and was trying to peer down the tower. Lambert secured his position, got his head level with the window, waved and grinned at the Cat. Aiden snorted and rolled his eyes.

“You are a damn drama queen,” Aiden snorted but offered him a smile anyway.

“And who's the princess _now_ ?”, Lambert asked with a shit-eating grin.

“Asshole !”

“I clearly remember you saying that you _wouldn't_ stay locked up in a tower for long and still, here we are.”

“I'm being polite here, Lambert. Not that you know what politeness is.”

“I do, I just choose to ignore it. Why are you here anyway ?”

“Didn't fancy spending one more winter on my own,” Aiden mumbled, “And I maybe missed you.”

“Come here, princess,” Lambert drawled and motioned for the Cat to come closer still.

“Fuck you,” Aiden replied without any heat and stepped forward.

Lambert passed one of his hands through the tiny window and cradled the back of Aiden's head in his palm. He then leaned in as Aiden leaned out and Lambert kissed him. He had missed him too. He released him soon enough and offered him a mischievous grin.

“Missed you too,” Lambert whispered and added while he fiddled with his belt to take his bomb out, “Now, if you'd kindly step back.”

He attached a string to his bomb and tied it to the window so that it would blow up the wall outwards.

“Lambert ! You are not blowing up the wall !”, Aiden exclaimed and Lambert swatted his hand away.

“Yes, I am,” he replied and lit the wick.

He let the bomb dangle from its string so that it rested against the wall, winked at a pale faced Aiden and moved around the tower so that he was clutching the wall on the other side of the window. He heard Aiden swear and then his bomb went off. The tower shook and Lambert cursed when he slipped. He managed to grab hold of a protruding stone and held on.

“Lambert ! You asshole ! Where the fuck are you ?”, he heard Aiden scream between coughs.

His cry was echoed by his brothers' and Lambert pulled himself up with a chuckle. He carefully moved back towards the hole he just created and jumped into Aiden's cell. He bowed to him with a flourish.

“Princess,” he smirked at him as he straightened up.

He wasn't prepared for a dust covered Aiden to slap him.

“You utter and complete prick,” Aiden growled, “You could have killed me ! You could have killed yourself !”

“Nah, everything was under control,” he contradicted the Cat while massaging his stinging cheek.

“Fuck, you're a sorry prince,” Aiden continued and backed him up against a still standing wall.

“And you're a sorry princess,” Lambert grumbled back as his hands settled on Aiden's hips.

“Then we make a perfect pair,” Aiden whispered against his lips and kissed him.

Lambert gladly returned the kiss and if Aiden was being a bit more aggressive than usual, well Lambert wasn't complaining and probably deserved it too. They were interrupted by someone loudly clearing their throat next to the door and they both stopped what they were doing to stare at Vesemir. He was livid.

“You !”, he roared and pointed at Lambert.

Vesemir stomped angrily into the room, went around some stones and approached them. Lambert whimpered and grasped Aiden tighter so that the Cat was completely leaning on him and hiding him from Vesemir. Aiden chuckled, pressed a quick kiss against his lips and got out of Lambert's hold.

“You are a menace,” Vesemir growled at Lambert and tugged harshly on his ear.

“Vesemir, hello again. I'm sorry ? Or maybe not because this room totally deserved... Ouch. Aiden ! Save me !”, Lambert cried to the Cat as his mentor dragged him out of the room by the ear.

“Sorry, no can do,” Aiden said with a smirk, “I'm the princess today, remember ? I'm supposed to stay still and look pretty.”

“And you're very very pretty. Ouch, stop twisting my ear old man ! Aiden,” Lambert whined as he disappeared down the stairs, “I'm sorry. I'll be your princess instead, Aideeeeen !”

Lambert heard Aiden laugh as he was forcefully dragged down the tower by a grunting Vesemir and he grumbled at the old Wolf. He hoped that his punishment would be light enough so that he could spend the next few days with Aiden. He could maybe try to annoy Vesemir into letting him get off easy, it ought to work. Probably. Maybe. He had had worse ideas that panned out wonderfully, so it was totally worth a shot.


	3. Eskel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Eskel is the unlucky one who gets an angsty chapter!  
> And there's a dash of competent Jaskier, because he deserves the recognition!

To whom it may concern, Eskel would like to make it known that he wasn't opposed to a night of debauchery. He had had his wild nights and thought of himself as a fine connoisseur of the matters of the flesh. He just prefered it when people asked him if he was interested in sharing their bed and didn't take his answer for granted. Eskel thought that it was a fairly reasonable expectation.

So when Eskel woke up chained to a bed with his hostess standing next to him and looking at him like he was a tasty piece of meat, he wasn't exactly feeling in a charitable mood. He bared his teeth at her, snarled and tugged on his restraints. To his astonishment they didn't break.

He pulled on the chains again, squirmed on the bed and even got on his knees, seeing as his feet weren't chained, to be able to tug on the restraints better, but the damn things just wouldn't break. The marchioness of Lowa laughed at him and Eskel snarled again.

“Don't worry, darling,” she said, “We'll set you free tomorrow morning. You're supposed to be the main entertainment tonight though. I hope that you won't disappoint.”

“Fuck you,” Eskel growled at her.

She laughed again and came closer to pat his cheek like she probably would a child. It made Eskel incredibly uncomfortable and he tried to bite her fingers. He sadly didn't manage it and watched with unease as she called some guards into the room.

They forced him to lie back on the bed again and fed him a vial of something disgusting that soon rendered him sleepy. He tried to keep his eyes open, he really did, but his vision became blurry on its own, sounds got oddly muffled and he fell asleep without meaning to.

When Eskel woke up again, he was feeling drowsy and sick. When he finally managed to open his eyes, after a few seconds of struggle, everything was blurry and he really wondered what the marchioness gave him and where exactly she had found it. He tried to focus on the fuzzy shapes he could see around the bed and flinched hard when he felt a hand pinch his nipple.

People laughed, more hands stroked his bare chest and Eskel curled in on himself. It took a few more minutes for his eyes to adjust and he spotted several nobles, men and women, dressed in extravagant clothes tittering and whispering together around him. He hated nobles and he berated himself for accepting the marchioness' offer to stay for dinner. He should have taken his payment and left.

He tugged on his restraints again, but didn't manage to break them. He then lifted his head back up and looked at the people gathered in the room. They were mostly young, laughing together and apparently delighted by the show Eskel presented. He spotted a few women looking unsure and one or two men with blank or disgusted faces, he wondered if they were disgusted by him or by the marchioness' treatment of him.

“I think that this small preview is enough for now, ladies and gentlemen,” the marchioness finally chirped joyfully, “If you'd kindly head back to the reception hall.”

They all obediently filed out of the room and Eskel breathed a little bit better. He couldn't stop himself from tugging on his restraints again and the marchioness laughed. Eskel wanted to tear her vocal cords out.

“Do you think that you could stay calm for a few more hours for me, darling ?”, she asked him, “Or would you like another dose of the calming draught I got just for _you_ ?”

She drew near, laid her hand on his thankfully still clothed hip and stroked him with a predatory grin on her face. Eskel forced himself to relax. He mustn't drink another vial of the potion if he wanted to have a chance to escape before the marchioness' guests came back from wherever she sent them to.

“Good witcher,” she purred at him and Eskel closed his eyes, he wanted to throw up, “See you in a few hours. Maybe. I'll do my best to win the game !”

She patted his hip one last time and headed for the door. She leered at him from the doorway, closed and locked the door behind her and Eskel was just grateful to be left alone. He stared at the room he was in but didn't find anything interesting.

The room was mostly bare, the plush bed he was lying on and a small dresser were the only furniture present. When he looked at his restraints again, he realized that he wasn't tied to the bed but that his chains connected to two metal rings embedded in the wall. He spotted some old bloodstains on the chains and wondered how many people had woken up in this room before him.

There was a small window on his right side and he could see the night sky through it, no landscape so he must have been locked up high in the building. He sighed, got to his knees and started to strain his arms against his chains. With some luck, he could bring himself free before anyone came back.

* * *

When Jaskier got the marchioness of Lowa's invitation, he was exalted. And then he remembered that he currently had a grumpy guest who wouldn't want to accompany him under any circumstances. Geralt noticed his slightly disappointed expression at midday and convinced him that he could be left to his own devices for an evening and that it wouldn't bother him if Jaskier wanted to go to the marchioness' ball.

Jaskier smiled, thanked him and spent two hours getting ready. He found the marchioness' invitation a bit surprising to be honest, it was highly unusual to receive an invitation one morning for a ball the same evening, and the theme was sadly unoriginal, _princes and princess_. But Jaskier supposed that she couldn't have come up with something better on such a short notice.

And then he wondered if he was the only one to get his invitation so late or if the marchioness had meant to be rude on purpose. He almost didn't go but Geralt had pointed out that his hours of careful grooming would have been wasted and Jaskier had agreed and ordered for his carriage to be prepared. He planned to completely outshine the other guests and would find a way to humiliate his host if it turned out that rudeness had been her goal.

He arrived just after the daughter and son of the baron de Writelberg and Jaskier politely greeted them. When he subtly enquired about their invitations, he learned that theirs had also been received on such a short notice, and that the baron only allowed them to attend because the marchioness was of a higher rank than their family.

They immediately went to greet their hostess for the night, who looked ravishing – if a bit odd – in a man's trousers and chemise, and Jaskier delighted in flirting with her. Unfortunately she had to shoo him away, but not before winking at him, to greet the other guests.

The marquess seemed to be absent and Jaskier mingled through the crowd joyfully. Several other women were dressed as men and Jaskier soon stopped wondering about their attire to better focus on ogling their shapely assets.

He greeted several neighbours and forced himself to partake into small talk. He hoped that the alcohol would be served soon to make these stuffy nobles loose their composure. He noticed that it was a fairly small and local gathering, with only the young nobles from the neighbourhood being in attendance. Jaskier supposed that the marchioness couldn't have invited some distant acquaintances on such a short notice.

When everyone seemed to be accounted for, the marchioness got up on a small dais and clapped her hands. They all got quiet and turned towards their host.

“My dear guests,” she said with a smile and a bow of her head, “I'm delighted to host you tonight, but before we can start to have fun, I'd like to show you tonight's prize and entertainment. If you would kindly follow me ?”

Jaskier saw some of the guests whisper excitedly between one another and had the distinct impression that these people exactly knew what the marchioness meant by entertainment. They must have been regular guests then. Jaskier was puzzled, it was only the third time that he was invited by the marchioness, and it was the first time he heard about an entertainment, so he followed the crowd through the manor enthusiastically, happy to be included.

The marchioness lead them deeper into her manor and then up a tower. They finally reached a locked door kept by two guards and their host bid them enter with a smile. Jaskier was at the end of the procession with the de Writelbergs and stared uncomprehendingly at the shackled sleeping bare-chested man on the bed they discovered.

“I immediately thought about you when I saw this one,” the marchioness whispered in his ear and Jaskier forced himself not to startle and to smile at her.

He didn't know what she meant to convey by _that_ and wondered if it was supposed to be a compliment, it didn't feel like it to him. The door was closed behind them and Jaskier settled on the second row around the bed.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the marchioness said dramatically, “May I introduce tonight's princess to you, the witcher Eskel !”

Excited whispers once again erupted in the room and Jaskier forced his face to remain carefully blank, he just now understood why _princess_ had been a singular on the invitation and he had a bad feeling about it. The man soon stirred on the bed and he watched aghast as the guests pawed the witcher. The man's reaction finished to convince him that he clearly wasn't here willingly.

Jaskier felt sick as he watched the guests fondle the witcher and he wondered why the marchioness thought that it would be a good idea to invite _him_. Did he look like a sleazy pervert to her ? But then the baron de Writelberg had gifted him a witcher a while ago too, he was probably surrounded by perverted people who thought that everybody shared their depraved manners. At least he hoped so.

They stayed in the room for a few minutes, just enough for them all to have a small taste of what was waiting for them. They learned about the marchioness' plan once they were safely back in the reception room. They were supposed to drink and eat and make merry for a while, before duels would be organized for the so-called princess' hand, or rather body. Men against men, women against women, and the best of each group would be able to go up the tower to enjoy their prize for the rest of the night.

Jaskier felt sick again and wondered how many of these parties – if they even could be called that – the marchioness had already organized and what happened to her unwilling guests after everything was said and done. Jaskier understood that it was in the nobles' best interests to keep their mouth shut about these things, but people would talk if they knew – or even suspected – about it, and he had never heard anything.

He managed to fake his good mood for an hour, just long enough so that most of the guests were inebriated, before he sneeked outside. He quickly found his carriage and his guards and ordered one of them to ride back towards his estate with all haste. He was supposed to fetch Geralt and to bring him back so that he could help Jaskier to get this witcher out of here. He asked the others to be ready to depart at a moment's notice and went back inside.

He ate and drank moderately, laughed with the guests, listened to some of their sick ideas with a fake smile firmly stuck on his face and danced with some of the women present. His previous desire to flirt had been completely obliterated and he had to force himself to appear as his traditionally buoyant self.

Finally just as the marchioness got the swords out – sharp steel blades for drunk people, Jaskier would be surprised if no one ended up dead by the end of the night –, the guard he sent back to his estate entered the reception hall and came to him. He whispered to him that Geralt was here and Jaskier took on an alarmed expression.

He looked for the marchioness and hurried over to her. He apologized to her and told her that he just had to leave right now because a fire caught in one of his manor's wings. The marchioness waved him away with a concerned frown on her face and promised to visit him on the morrow, possibly with her special guest so that as a fine connoisseur, he could enjoy him a little.

Jaskier smiled at her, filled her glass again and finally bowed to her, before he almost ran out of the room. The guard pointed left outside and Jaskier followed him. They soon reached Geralt who was examining one of the manor's two towers and Jaskier panicked because he didn't know which one housed the witcher.

“Jaskier,” Geralt greeted him.

“Geralt. Glad to see you.”

“Which tower is it ?”

“I don't know. I think that I could find my way back inside though.”

Geralt grunted at him and broke a window. Jaskier ordered the guard to go back to the others and to leave with the carriage, he'd hitch a ride with Geralt when they'd be done. The guard nodded and left at a run.

The witcher then helped Jaskier to step inside and handed him a dagger and his lockpicking tools before they went any further. Jaskier nodded at him and they were off. Geralt seemed to be alert and he carefully checked every nook and cranny they passed on their way up.

“Got a name for the witcher ?”, Geralt grunted at him when they reached the last staircase.

“The marchioness said Eskel,” Jaskier whispered back and was surprised to see Geralt flinch.

“Fuck,” the witcher cursed.

“Friend or foe ?”, Jaskier asked sensibly.

“Brother,” Geralt grunted and began his ascent, Jaskier winced and dutifully followed him up

When they finally reached the last landing, Jaskier stopped Geralt and mimed for him to be careful because of the guards. Geralt patted his shoulder and ran into the corridor. Jaskier followed after a few seconds and skidded to a halt in front of the door, he trusted the witcher to guard his back as he got to work on the keyhole.

Geralt came back to hover a few minutes later.

“I still can't believe that you know how to use these,” the witcher snorted at him.

“You never really know what you'll end up learning in Oxenfurt,” Jaskier smirked, “Haha, it's done !”

They entered the room together and Jaskier closed the door behind him. Geralt strode forward and stopped next to the bed where the other witcher was kneeling and snarling. He was still chained.

“Eskel ?”, Geralt said.

“Geralt ?”, the other witcher asked, confused.

“Jaskier !”, he couldn't resist to chirp.

Geralt sighed, moved forward and clapped his brother's shoulder before bringing their foreheads together. Jaskier approached too and cleared his throat.

“I'll get you out of these,” he said and took a seat on the witcher's right so that he could easily access his shackles, “Now kindly don't move while I work on these.”

“What are you doing here ?”, he asked again but thankfully didn't move.

“We're saving a princess apparently.”

“Go fuck yourself !”

“We don't have the time for that. Someone will be by soon. Where are your things ? Your swords ?”, Geralt asked.

“I don't know. Woke up here like that.”

“Crap !” Geralt exclaimed as Jaskier released a small triumphant sound.

“Who's he ?”, Eskel asked as Jaskier moved from the right wrist to the left.

“A friend. Found your boots under the bed.”

“Thanks, that really makes me feel better,” Eskel answered drily.

“Can't you ask one of the guards ?”, Jaskier wondered.

“I killed them.”

“Oh. Too bad,” Jaskier said sarcastically, “And we're done here. If you two could rip the rings from the wall, it'll seem like you got out alone.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt sighed, “I _killed_ the guards.”

“Oh, right, yes. Of course, no point trying to be inconspicuous after that.”

“I'll check the nearby rooms while you put on some shoes,” Geralt grunted, “Jaskier, don't wander.”

“I would never !”, Jaskier gasped.

“Weren't you one of the guests ?”, Eskel asked him suspiciously while he fiddled with his boots.

“Oh, awkward. Yes, the marchioness invited me. No, I didn't fondle you and I certainly don't want to force you into anything. I don't know why people seem to think I'm some kind of sleazy pervert,” Jaskier huffed.

Eskel only hummed at him, got up, searched the dresser's drawers, grunted in disgust and went out of the room. Jaskier followed him and Geralt joined them in the hallway with a bag, a shirt and two swords.

“Here, found these in the next room.”

“Thanks,” Eskel said and put his shirt on.

“You're probably not the first to have been caught though,” Geralt continued, “the room was full of shit. Bags, clothes, jewelry, some swords and daggers.”

“Fuck,” Jaskier whispered, “Should we check the dungeons too ?”

“Do you know how many guards the marchioness has ?”, Geralt asked back, “If these people are even still alive ?”

“No,” Jaskier sighed, “Too dangerous, right ?”

Geralt hummed and led the way downstairs. They happened upon two drunk guests who were giggling as they went up and Jaskier watched the witchers as they knocked them out none too gently. They left them sprawled on the stairs and creeped downstairs carefully. They didn't come across anybody else and soon got out through the same window as they got in.

Eskel then insisted to visit the stables and came back out with a horse Jaskier supposed was his, and if it wasn't, well he wouldn't fault him for the theft. Once Eskel was settled, Geralt lead Jaskier to Roach and offered him to ride with him. He gladly accepted his friend's offer and clutched him tight as they rode off.

“Geralt ?”, Jaskier asked after a while, “Do I look like a creepy sleazy pervert ?”

He felt Geralt sigh and Jaskier smiled against his back.

“Because one moronic woman invited you to a sordid party ? No, Jaskier. I'm pretty sure that you're a pervert...”

“Hey !”, Jaskier exclaimed, outraged.

“... but you're not sleazy or creepy, my friend.”

“Thanks, Geralt. And remind me to tell you about my meeting with your other brother tomorrow, you won't regret it.”

“You met Lambert ?”, Eskel asked him.

“Yeah, I'll tell you about it tomorrow over breakfast. And you're of course invited to spend the night at mine, Eskel, or a few days if you want.”

He saw Eskel share a glance with Geralt before he offered a nod of acceptance and Jaskier smiled at him. He supposed that he had a valid reason to be wary of nobles. And if on the morrow, when the marchioness of Lowa came to visit with words of apologies because she had lost her special guest overnight and couldn't sadly offer him to the Count, Jaskier got some slow acting poison out and fed it to her, well nobody needed to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it!
> 
> The next chapter, Geralt, isn't written yet but I know what I want to do.  
> I'm just working on three different projects so it may take a little bit of time :D


	4. Geralt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Geralt's chapter is finally here !
> 
> Hope you'll enjoy!

Geralt doesn't really know if he deserves what is happening to him. He had been minding his own business in a small town in Gelibol, when he had heard about a monster terrorizing a nearby village. He had left to check it out, haggled with the alderman about payment and had gone into the swamp surrounding the settlement to take care of it.

It had been an easy hunt, a few drowners that he had had no trouble dispatching. He hadn't even needed to terrify the alderman afterwards to get paid, so all in all, it had been a rather good day. And then the man had informed him about a sorceress waiting for him at the tavern. Geralt had nodded, thanked him for the information and gone on his way expecting to find Yennefer looking for him.

It hadn't been Yennefer. He had met a rather striking blond woman, who told him that she had a griffin problem a few towns over right next to her tower. Geralt had frowned, wary of the newcomer, and the woman had smiled, offered him a drink - which he hadn't touched - and sighed long-sufferingly before muttering something under her breath and moving her fingers and Geralt had stumbled upright and crashed on the floor dizzy.

When Geralt wakes up, he's in a tower, his hands are shackled to the wall and the sorceress is ranting at him about her greatest rival. He rolls his eyes and tries to rip the chains from the wall. Unfortunately it doesn't work and he scowls and kicks said wall for good measure. It's probably not very mature but satisfying nonetheless.

When he deigns to listen to the woman, who's cackling maniacally between angered rants now - Geralt really wonders about her sanity ! -, he manages to understand that she's holding a grudge against Yennefer and kidnapped him to lure her into a trap. Geralt's features morphs into a truly unimpressed expression and he just knows that this won't end well.

"And that is how I'll become the most feared sorceress of all times !", she finishes her explanation and holds out a handful of something white while she cackles.

Geralt squints his eyes at the stuff and takes a step forward intending to wring her neck, because she's holding a handful of his hair. The chains prevent him from stepping forward and he raises his hands to his head to try to assess the damage. The left side of his head seems fine but a big chunk of hair is missing from the right side. It must look absolutely dreadful and Geralt can just imagine the face Jaskier is going to make when he'll see the mess. There might be _tears_.

"You fucking hag," he growls, "Give me back my damn hair !"

“What, that ?”, she asks and shows him the white strands she's holding, "I'm going to send them to your sorceress. I hope you're as dear to her as I heard, because if she doesn't come, I might send her blood next, and then a finger, and then a toe or maybe your cock."

"You're crazy," Geralt grunts at her.

"I'm not !", she gasps, "I'm a visionary !"

She fucking winks at him and steps out of the room. She closes and locks the heavy door behind her and Geralt is left alone in this tiny bare round room. There's no furniture, nothing he can use to try to pick his shackles' lock and he scowls at the empty room. The chains only allow him to take five steps forward and he can barely see outside of the tiny window, which in truth looks more like an arrow slit than anything else.

He sighs, goes back to the wall and sits down on the dusty floor. It's probably karma making him pay for mocking Lambert when Geralt had heard about his stunt at Jaskier's estate. He'll try to be more compassionate the next time. 

He rests his head back against the wall, sighs again and feels bored already. The sorceress could have at least given him a book or something to eat, anything really, at this point he would be glad to have a few children toys to play with, it would be better than to sit there alone with his thoughts.

He grunts, wriggles around until he finds a somewhat comfortable position and starts to silently enumerate the names of all the monsters he knows. He'll continue with the stars, and then plants and _then_ town names if he's that desperate.

* * *

Eskel is setting up camp, in the morning because he feels like he deserves a lazy day as a treat, when a portal opens in the clearing he chose as his campsite. He growls, unsheathes one of his swords and steps forward.

"Lambert incoming, don't skewer me !", his brother yells and comes trotting through.

Eskel sighs and sheathes his sword.

"What are you doing here ?", Eskel asks Lambert.

"I'm looking for you actually. Come on, pack your shit up, Geralt needs us."

"What are you blabbering on about ?"

"Geralt has a sorceress friend who's more than a friend if you catch my meaning," Lambert grins at him as he saddles Eskel's horse, "And one of her coworkers apparently is holding quite the grudge, so she kidnapped Geralt to get to Yennefer and she sent her an ultimatum. Unfortunately Yennefer is busy and forwarded the letter to me. So, are you coming or not ?"

"She's busy with what ?", Eskel asks as he crams his blanket back into his saddlebag.

He feels bad about Geralt whose lover is apparently ditching him without a care in the world, and he wonders what could be more important than saving the people you care about.

"I didn't ask, Eskel," Lambert gasps, "Asking a sorceress for anything is a sure way to end up turned into a frog."

"You're ridiculous."

"I'm blaming Aiden for that one."

"Pretty sure you were already ridiculous before. Speaking of Aiden, he's coming with us ?"

"No, as far as I know he's down in Toussaint and I refuse to set a foot into that hellhole since the snake incident."

"Snake incident ?", Eskel wonders as they step through the portal.

"It wasn't my fault !"

Lambert leaves his side after that cryptic statement to go speak with what Eskel supposes is a sorcerer and his brother hands the man a purse. The sorcerer nods and opens another portal for them. Lambert collects his horse, thanks the man and steps through. Eskel nods at him and follows his brother.

They end up on the road leading to a small village and soon learn that a sorceress indeed lives in a tower nearby. When they ask about a witcher, a gruff blacksmith sends them on to the tavern.

They find Roach in the stables with Geralt's packs and against a few coins the tavern keeper tells them about a witcher who collapsed in his establishment two days ago and how the kind sorceress lead him away to care for him. Lambert actually gags at the story and they hurry out of the village after that.

It takes them a few hours to reach the sorceress' tower and they tie their horses to some trees in a clearing away from their destination, before creeping forward silently.

"So what's the plan ?", Eskel asks once they're lying down under some bushes looking at the tower.

"Bombs ?"

"That's your plan for everything," Eskel sighs.

"Because it works," Lambert whispers back, "Or do you want to play at being the distraction while I break in ?"

"Why can't you be the distraction ?"

"Because I hate sorceresses and once I'll see her, I'm sure that I won't be able to refrain from punching her."

"Stab her instead," Eskel grunts, "It's more useful."

"Sure, so plan B ?"

"Why not," Eskel agrees, "But I'm blaming you if I end up turned into a toad."

"I'll force Geralt to kiss you to turn you back," Lambert cackles.

"You sound way too happy about that possibility than you should," Eskel sighs, "And you forgot about the true love part along with the kiss."

"Lil' Bleater then ?", Lambert asks with a shit-eating grin.

"You're a prick," Eskel sighs, "Now, shoo, I'm counting to five hundred and you better be in position by then."

"No problem," Lambert agrees and leaves at a trot for the back of the tower.

Eskel actually counts to six hundred before he rises, hides his meadallion under his shirt, walks to the road and nonchalantly approaches the tower. Everything seems normal, he doesn't hear or see anything out of the ordinary, and he firmly knocks on the tower's wooden door. No one answers. He knocks again after a few minutes and wonders if Lambert got caught.

"What ?", a beautiful woman snaps at him as she half-opens the door for him.

"Good afternoon, I'm looking for a sorceress," Eskel says and forces himself to offer her a smile.

Her eyes land on his scars and, as expected, she grimaces in disgust.

"What do you need ?", she asks him.

"A portal," he says because it's the first thing that came to his mind when he was preparing his speech, "But I don't really know where I should go, just whom I need to reach."

"That's tricky," the sorceress says and then sharply smiles at him, "And it's going to cost you."

Eskel shudders and forces his body to stay relaxed. He wonders what is taking Lambert so long.

"How much ?", Eskel asks, "I'm afraid that I don't have that much money on me right now."

The sorceress hums consideringly and smirks.

"I might be convinced to make a portal for you against a small favor."

Eskel feels his skin crawl.

"What sort of favor ?", he asks her warily.

"You're not displaying your medallion, you're a Cat, right ?"

Eskel nods dumbly and decides to go along with her reasoning.

"I might be in need of your services then," the sorceress whispers, "There's this annoying pest that I just can't seem to get rid of and..."

Her sentence ends in a wet gurgle as blood pours out from her mouth and Lambert's sword pierces through her body. His brother frees his blade as soon as the sorceress dies, kicks her body and cleans his sword on her dress.

"What took you so long ?", Eskel asks as he crouches down to search the woman's body.

"Would a thank you be too much to ask for ?", Lambert grouches.

"Thank you, Lambert," Eskel sighs, "What took you so long ?"

"I had trouble to get in through the window," Lambert mutters and Eskel laughs.

"Did you get stuck ?", he asks with a grin.

"Asshole," Lambert curses and adds slowly, "No, I just had to wiggle my way in."

Eskel laughs again and lets out a small triumphant sound when he finds some keys hidden in the woman's clothes. Lambert rolls his eyes, drags her body to the enormous fireplace, puts it in it and lights it on fire.

"I'm going up," Eskel says and shakes his head at his brother's behaviour, "Do you mind looking around ? See if you find something useful ?"

"Sure," Lambert agrees, "Here, look, I have a potion to help you get your prick up. Interested ?"

"Give it to Aiden," Eskel smirks, "He'll need it soon enough."

"Goatfucker !", Lambert yells at him and smashes the vial on the floor.

Eskel shakes his head, finds the stairs and goes up. He finds an empty bedroom on the first floor, an empty laboratory on the second and ends up facing a closed door on the thrid. He hums, puts the biggest key in his possession in the lock and turns. The door opens and Eskel leans against the doorjamb with a smirk on his face when he spots his brother looking hale and healthy in the room.

"Hey, princess," he greets him.

"Eskel ? What are you doing here ?", Geralt asks him as he stands up and dusts himself.

"The actual princess had better things to do than to come to your rescue," Eskel explains with a grin as he steps forward, "Uh, you stink."

"Thanks," Geralt answers drily and still forces Eskel into accepting a hug, "Isolation with the barest comfort will do that to a person."

"Glad to see you're okay though," Eskel says, "Anyway, seeing as the princess wasn't available, two dashing princes decided to come to your rescue."

"More like two penniless errant knights," Geralts deadpans.

"You're so funny," Eskel says drily as he disposes of the manacles.

"I try," Geralt answers with a shrug.

"What happened to your hair ?", Eskel then gasps.

"The cunt cut it," Geralt growls and adds wonderingly, "How bad is it ?"

"It's... peculiar," Eskel says and winces.

Geralt grunts and elbows him out of the way to get out of the room. He stomps down the stairs in a huff.

"Hey, you asked !", Eskel feels compelled to remind him.

"I found Geralt's swords," Lambert's voice greets them on the groundfloor.

"Where are you ?", Eskel asks.

"Here," Lambert grins as he joins them from the backroom, "I found some coin and there's a few good bottle of booze back there too."

"Nice," Eskel agrees and goes to take a look.

"Uh, you're not so pretty anymore, Geralt. What happened to your hair ?", Lambert asks then.

"Fuck off," Geralt grunts.

"Hey, I want a refund !", Lambert exclaims, "I was promised a nice good-looking princess and I got a hairless troll instead !"

Eskel hears the start of a scuffle behind him and he rolls his eyes. He grabs the good bottles of wine, puts them in a bag, and crams two fat purses into his pockets. Lambert and Geralt are still rolling around on the floor when he comes back and he scrunches up his nose because the burning sorceress is starting to smell.

"Will you two calm the fuck down ?"

"He started it," Geralt mutters.

"By Melitele, you're both hopeless," Eskel sighs, "I'm sure that we can find a potion to regrow your hair in all of this mess."

Geralt's look of horror at the suggestion that they use something the untrustworthy sorceress made on his beloved hair is so funny that Eskel and Lambert don't hesitate to laugh at him.

"Fuck you," their brother curses them, gets up and leaves the tower.

Lambert gets up too and heads to the backroom again and Eskel follows Geralt out.

"Eskel !", Lambert yells after him after a minute, "Eskel ! Where did you put the damn wine bottles ? I want some too ! Come back here you thief !"

Eskel laughs again and starts to run as Lambert's angry voice comes closer. He overtakes Geralt quickly and his brother tries to make him stumble. Eskel easily sidesteps him and hurries on. 

He decides to keep the chase up for a while and he'll share his spoils with his brothers later on. He supposes that Geralt at least deserves a drink, and Lambert will just whine obnoxiously if they'll leave him out so they'll make do with sharing with him too. Eskel assumes that there are worse ways to spend an evening than sharing a few bottles of good wine with his brothers after successfully rescuing a grumpy princess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to write one last chapter about Vesemir and I'll manage it... one day !  
> I'm just working on something else right now and it might take me a little bit of time.
> 
> I hope you liked it and I'll see you soon :D :D


	5. Young Vesemir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Young Vesemir it is, I didn't manage to write something with him older with Geralt, Eskel and Lambert...

For once Rennes is pleased. His paperwork is done, he was told that the young witchers fresh out of the trials of the Grasses were doing quite well in their training and no mage has set a foot in his office in a week. Everything seems to run smoothly so he allows himself a break, pours himself a glass of brandy and picks some biscuits out of his secret stash.

He eats slowly and then gets up to go savor his drink in front of his window. From there he can see the trainees sparring together in the courtyard and he hums when he spots a particularly well executed move. Varin hadn't been lying, they are quite good.

A knock disturbs his peace and he calls for his visitor to enter. His latest secretary, young Padrik, opens the door carefully, sticks his head through the crack of the door and contemplates his office in silence for a few seconds.

“What ?”, Rennes sighs.

When one of his secretaries doesn't immediately step into his office and takes the time to evaluate his mood, it usually means that they're bringing bad news. He turns away from the window, sits back down into his chair, invites Padrik to take the chair in front of him and takes a deep breath. He feels like he's going to need it.

“Are you... hum... Are you fine, headmaster ?”, Padrik asks him softly after taking a seat.

Rennes has a feeling this is going to be bad. Utterly disastrous. A calamity worse than the time he had to go down the latrines to fetch a stuck trainee someone had pushed down.

“I'm well,” Rennes growls and takes a sip of brandy, “What is it ?”

“Are you still cross with Vesemir ?”

“What has he done _now_ ?”, Rennes sighs and closes his eyes.

“He sent a letter,” Padrik says and slides a parchment across his desk, “He's in prison in Temeria.”

“For fornicating with a goat in the town square ?”, Rennes incredulously asks as he skims the letter.

“We're almost sure that it's not that bad, headmaster,” Padrik says and grimaces.

“Almost ?”, Rennes smirks.

“It _is_ Vesemir, headmaster,” Padrik answers and shrugs.

Rennes snorts. He's pretty sure that Vesemir wasn't arrested for fornicating with a goat, the witcher is a menace but he's not a disgusting pervert. Unfortunately he didn't include the true reason for his imprisonment in the letter.

“The letter is dated from two weeks ago,” Rennes absently notes.

“Yes, headmaster. You seemed, hum, maybe a bit tense these past few weeks and we were cautioned to wait to give you the letter so that you would be able to deal with this matter calmly.”

“Who told you that ?”

“Barmin.”

“And ?”

“Varin, Birch, Osbert, Tjold...”

“That's enough,” Rennes interrupts him.

He's apparently been betrayed by all the faculty.

“So what do you propose ?”

“It was brought to my attention that it would do you some good to step out of the keep for a few days.”

“I'm not going to Temeria ! The damn nuisance can get himself out of prison alone !”

“There is a fine to pay.”

“He has money !”

“He says that he's broke in the letter.”

“Then he can break out ! The least I see him, the better. I still haven't forgiven him for the rotting body parts he hid all over the castle before leaving in spring.”

“Varin bet him that he wouldn't dare. Did you honestly think that he would have backed down from such a challenge ?”

“Varin bet him, did he now ?”, Rennes growls.

“Oh, you didn't know. Of course not,” Padrik then says unconvencingly, “It was all Vesemir.”

“Anyway, that just proves my point, the man is a nightmare to deal with, so he can take care of his problems on his own.”

“You have three appointments with mages booked for tomorrow, two for the day after that and then a meeting with the headmaster of the school of the Viper is scheduled.”

Rennes stares at his secretary completely horrified, the little sneaky smartass is a horrible manipulator.

“Tell me why I shouldn't send you on a two years long mission to Skellige for that stunt ?”

“Because Romuld will have to take my place and he can't say no to the mages.”

“Shit,” Rennes swears, he's right.

“Sara is waiting in her office to open a portal to take you to Temeria. Barmin said that it would be preferable if you were to take the long way around to come back.”

“With Vesemir ?”, Rennes wonders, aghast.

“I wouldn't presume to tell you what to do, headmaster. One would think that once he's free, Vesemir could go on his own way.”

“Fuck,” Rennes curses, “Tell Sara that I'm leaving tomorrow at dawn.”

Padrik nods, smiles at him and finally leaves him be. Rennes finishes his glass of brandy and lets out an aggrieved sigh. Vesemir is such a nightmare. If he wasn't afraid that keeping him in the keep to teach the trainees wouldn't be worse than allowing him out on the Path, it would have been a long time since he would have offered him a teaching post. He sighs one more time, gets up and leaves his office, he has some packing to do.

* * *

Vesemir is bored, blasé, tired of this damn prison cell. It's a rather nice prison cell with a clean straw matress, a small window to peer outside and even a desk with a new candle and a new book when he asks for it, he has nothing to complain really. But the only downside is that the company is sorely lacking. He has no cellmate to entertain him and the gaoler is a mute who grunts twice a day at Vesemir, and he wonders what is taking so long for one of his brothers to come to his rescue.

Maybe blaming his arrest on some public indecency with a goat hasn't been his smartest idea. But he feels like if he had told the truth, it would have been much worse. It's not his fault the alderman's lovely daughter sought him out in the night to show him the appreciation she held for her rescuer. Vesemir would just have prefered to be warned that she was supposed to get married two days later.

It still could have been worse. The alderman clearly loves his daughter and he hadn't been angry at Vesemir, but he and the girl hadn't been discreet at all and all the village had heard about their tryst by the time the sun came up. The groom didn't really care either – he wasn't really interested in the fairer sex and Vesemir has spent some time daydreaming about having the girl and the boy at the same time, so sue him, he has time to kill – but his parents certainly did care.

And unfortunately they are wealthy merchants that the alderman doesn't want to upset too badly. So Vesemir got chased, caught and dragged to the top cell of the tower prison and the fine he asked his rescuer to bring with him is supposed to become part of the bride's dowry. Vesemir is almost sure that Rennes would have ordered to let him rot in his cell and to pay his debt on his own if he had told the truth. Which he can't do because he's broke and he used the last of his coin to be able to have access to his belongings during his imprisonment.

So when Vesemir hears the city go eerily quiet mid morning, his interest is piqued and he gets up to peer through the window. He doesn't see much, just some tree tops and rooftops, and he strains his ears. He can faintly hear the sound of a horse's hooves on the cobblestones and if he's not mistaken, the horse is coming closer.

He sighs and goes back to sprawl on his cot. It's probably a courier delivering letters or a guard coming back from his rounds, nothing to be excited about. He sits up again a few minutes later when he hears some unintelligible argument taking place on the ground floor of the tower and he wonders if his time to be rescued _finally_ came or if he's going to receive a letter telling him to go fuck himself.

The voices soon get quieter and as no one seems to come up, Vesemir sighs and lies back down. The alderman could have at least given him a cellmate or let his daughter and betrothed visit, it would have been a nice distraction from the big nothing his days are filled with. Maybe he should start to think about escaping and running away, he's almost sure that the gards won't pursue him too zealously.

He frowns and thinks about staging an escape. He'd need to subdue the mute guard without hurting him – he's been nice and Vesemir isn't an asshole – and then he'd have to sneak out discreetly, before finding his horse and leaving the town quickly before the merchants could get involved and ask for him to be brought back. It doesn't feel like such an insurmountable task to him.

Just as he's trying to remember the way from the prison to the inn where he's last seen his horse, he's brought out of his thought by some heavy footsteps going up the stairs. He recognizes the mute gaoler easily and frowns because it's too early for him to bring him his midday meal. He doesn't seem to be accompanied either and Vesemir wonders what is happening now.

He stays relaxed and sprawled on his bed as usual – it seems to placate the gaoler – and waves at the man when he spots him. The man grins back and snaps his keys against the bars of his cell. And then behind the man appears a truly unimpressed Rennes.

“Headmaster !”, Vesemir greets him with a nod and a cheeky smile, “I was starting to think that Kaer Morhen forgot about me !”

Rennes crosses his arms over his chest, glares at him and stays silent.

“It wasn't my fault !”, Vesemir tries and hopes that he'll find the good excuse to placate his head of school soon enough, “I didn't actually fornicate with a goat ? I was a victim of an unfair judicial system ? There was no trial ? Innocent until proven guilty ? I'm broke ? No really, I am. Hum... I got lost ? I'm sorry ?”

Rennes meanly squints his eyes at him and snorts unhappily.

“Are you though ?”, he sneers.

“Very much, headmaster,” Vesemir answers and nods, maybe a bit too enthusiastically to appear completely honest.

“Somehow I doubt it. Anyway, what are you doing here ?”

“Waiting for a rescue,” Vesemir says, rolls his eyes and barely manages to hold onto the _obviously_ that just wants to be added at the end of the sentence.

“And why didn't you escape already ?”, Rennes growls at him, “Are you a witcher or a damn _princess_?”

“Uh, if I had had a choice, I think that I would have chosen princess. Less blood and shit, more pillows and good food.”

Rennes rolls his eyes at him.

"Well I've got half a mind to leave you here, you could devote your time to become a true princess," Rennes growls at him and then sighs, “You're such a nuisance."

"I'm not !", Vesemir dramatically gasps and hopes that Rennes won't really leave him here, "I'm a delight !"

"You are the reason for my purse being lighter, that you sure are. You owe me money by the way."

"What ? That's not fair ! I know for sure that the school paid some ransoms in the past and nobody asked the rescued witcher to pay it back !"

"Yes," Rennes grunts, "And I took the exact sum you wrote would be enough with me, but I needed more to pay the tavernkeeper, because _someone_ asked for slowly roasted salmon on a bed of sweet honey and fresh vegetables to be brought to him from the tavern. Twice."

Rennes ends up yelling at him and Vesemir winces, he had known that asking for the salmon had been a mistake, but he had been so bored that trying the delicacies of the town had seemed such a great idea. More so because he had already been broke by the time he had asked for the salmon for the first time and had known that it would be his rescuer paying for it in the end. Maybe he should have faked an injury, it may have gotten him out of reimbursing Rennes.

"I was bored," Vesemir whines, "What should I have done ?"

"Escape !"

"That would have been rude !"

"Oh, shut the fuck up, you damn princess," Rennes sneers at him and motions for the guard to open his cell.

His gaoler obeys with a grunt and Vesemir jumps on his feet to collect his belongings under Rennes' glare. He smiles at the head of his school when he finally gets out and squeaks when Rennes takes a hold of his earlobe, twists it painfully between his fingers and tows him down the stairs.

He whines and pleads, but Rennes only releases him when they reach the bottom of the stairs and Vesemir rubs his poor abused ear. Some guards hand him his swords, the alderman, who apparently came to see him off, shakes his hand and thanks him one more time for dealing with the monster and Rennes walks out of the tower with a disgusted grunt thrown his way.

"Hey, wait !", Vesemir yells and runs after him, "What are you doing ?"

"I'm going back to Kaer Morhen. Believe it or not, I have other things to do than to babysit you for the rest of the year. I trust you won't find yourself imprisoned soon again ?"

"Not planning on it," Vesemir says and saunters forward towards his horse, "Oh, missed you girl. Did they treat you well ?"

Vesemir quickly examines his horse, finds out that she's been well treated during his absence and strokes her flanks gently before saddling her. He then follows Rennes out of the village.

"What. Do. You. Think. You. Are. Doing ?", Rennes asks him after an hour.

"Tagging along ? I think I could benefit from seeing a _venerable witcher_ in action for a few weeks."

Rennes abruptly stops his horse and turns back in the saddle towards him. Vesemir offers him a cheeky smile and forces his horse to move to the left a bit. Just in case Rennes decides that he's in the mood to strangle him.

“I am going that way,” Rennes snarls and points north, “And you are going _that_ way !”, he says and points south.

“Are you sure ?”

“I'll _skewer_ you if you try to follow me, don't think that I won't !”

“Fine,” Vesemir sighs, he feels like he's overstayed his welcome a bit, “South it is. I'll see you in winter !”

“Or not,” Rennes mutters under his breath and Vesemir grins.

“It was a pleasure seeing you, headmaster !”, Vesemir says and turns his horse around.

“You better come back with my orens !”, Rennes yells back and Vesemir doesn't answer and jauntily waves at him as he leaves, he's not planning on repaying Rennes anytime soon.

He's rather dismayed to find out that his frivolous behaviour towards Rennes comes to bite him in the ass when he comes back to Kaer Morhen. His brothers all welcome him nicely, but they also smirk at him and call him _princess_ at every opportunity. Vesemir doesn't let it bother him, it would be the surer way to make the stupid nickname stick.

But when on the third day of his stay, he's tasked with taking care of the animals alongside Varin, Huren and Fredrik, and they send him worried looks when he approaches the goats and actually send him off to deal with the rabbits instead, he knows that something shady is going on.

He's at the center of attention at midday again, and when he strains his ears, he can faintly hear his brothers discussing the fact that he apparently really fucked a goat in a crowded market place somewhere in Temeria. He groans and bangs his head against the table. It comes back to him now that he never told Rennes what really happened and that with the way he annoyed him, the head of the school might have wanted to exact some revenge. _Fuck_.

He raises his head again after a few seconds of silent lament and looks for Rennes. The witcher is sitting at the head table and looking straight at him. Vesemir grimaces and flips him off, Rennes just smirks and raises his glass to him. Vesemir groans again. He hates him and he wonders if he could get away with punching him, but probably not, so he'll need to be more sneaky if he wants to get back at him. Maybe steal his booze, or dismantle his desk and hide the different parts all over the keep, or do nothing for now and act like he did something to watch Rennes lose himself to paranoia. So many possibilities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I made young Vesemir a little shit... It seems fun!  
> Also the leading someone by the ear ? Vesemir totally learned it from an annoyed Rennes :D


End file.
